The Leavenworth Case

by Anna Katharine Green

  XXX. BURNED PAPER

  “I could have better spared a better man.” --Henry IV.

  I DO not think I called immediately for help. The awful shock of thisdiscovery, coming as it did at the very moment life and hope werestrongest within me; the sudden downfall which it brought of all theplans based upon this woman’s expected testimony; and, worst of all, thedread coincidence between this sudden death and the exigency in whichthe guilty party, whoever it was, was supposed to be at that hour weremuch too appalling for instant action. I could only stand and stare atthe quiet face before me, smiling in its peaceful rest as if deathwere pleasanter than we think, and marvel over the providence whichhad brought us renewed fear instead of relief, complication instead ofenlightenment, disappointment instead of realization. For eloquent as isdeath, even on the faces of those unknown and unloved by us, the causesand consequences of this one were much too important to allow the mindto dwell upon the pathos of the scene itself. Hannah, the girl, was lostin Hannah the witness.

  But gradually, as I gazed, the look of expectation which I perceivedhovering about the wistful mouth and half-open lids attracted me, and Ibent above her with a more personal interest, asking myself if she werequite dead, and whether or not immediate medical assistance would be ofany avail. But the more closely I looked, the more certain I becamethat she had been dead for some hours; and the dismay occasioned by thisthought, taken with the regrets which I must ever feel, that I had notadopted the bold course the evening before, and, by forcing my way tothe hiding-place of this poor creature, interrupted, if not preventedthe consummation of her fate, startled me into a realization of mypresent situation; and, leaving her side, I went into the next room,threw up the window, and fastened to the blind the red handkerchiefwhich I had taken the precaution to bring with me.

  Instantly a young man, whom I was fain to believe Q, though he borenot the least resemblance, either in dress or facial expression toany renderings of that youth which I had yet seen, emerged from thetinsmith’s house, and approached the one I was in.

  Observing him cast a hurried glance in my direction, I crossed thefloor, and stood awaiting him at the head of the stairs.

  “Well?” he whispered, upon entering the house and meeting my glance frombelow; “have you seen her?”

  “Yes,” I returned bitterly, “I have seen her!”

  He hurriedly mounted to my side. “And she has confessed?”

  “No; I have had no talk with her.” Then, as I perceived him growingalarmed at my voice and manner, I drew him into Mrs. Belden’s room andhastily inquired: “What did you mean this morning when you informed meyou had seen this girl? that she was in a certain room where I mightfind her?”

  “What I said.”

  “You have, then, been to her room?”

  “No; I have only been on the outside of it. Seeing a light, I crawled upon to the ledge of the slanting roof last night while both you and Mrs.Belden were out, and, looking through the window, saw her moving roundthe room.” He must have observed my countenance change, for he stopped.“What is to pay?” he cried.

  I could restrain myself no longer. “Come,” I said, “and see foryourself!” And, leading him to the little room I had just left, Ipointed to the silent form lying within. “You told me I shouldfind Hannah here; but you did not tell me I should find her in thiscondition.”

  “Great heaven!” he cried with a start: “not dead?”

  “Yes,” I said, “dead.”

  It seemed as if he could not realize it. “But it is impossible!” hereturned. “She is in a heavy sleep, has taken a narcotic----”

  “It is not sleep,” I said, “or if it is, she will never wake. Look!” And, taking the hand once more in mine, I let it fall in its stoneweight upon the bed.

  The sight seemed to convince him. Calming down, he stood gazing at herwith a very strange expression upon his face. Suddenly he moved andbegan quietly turning over the clothes that were lying on the floor.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. “What are you looking for?”

  “I am looking for the bit of paper from which I saw her take what Isupposed to be a dose of medicine last night. Oh, here it is!” he cried,lifting a morsel of paper that, lying on the floor under the edge of thebed, had hitherto escaped his notice.

  “Let me see!” I anxiously exclaimed.

  He handed me the paper, on the inner surface of which I could dimlydiscern the traces of an impalpable white powder.

  “This is important,” I declared, carefully folding the paper together.“If there is enough of this powder remaining to show that the contentsof this paper were poisonous, the manner and means of the girl’s deathare accounted for, and a case of deliberate suicide made evident.”

  “I am not so sure of that,” he retorted. “If I am any judge ofcountenances, and I rather flatter myself I am, this girl had no moreidea she was taking poison than I had. She looked not only bright butgay; and when she tipped up the paper, a smile of almost silly triumphcrossed her face. If Mrs. Belden gave her that dose to take, telling herit was medicine----”

  “That is something which yet remains to be learned; also whether thedose, as you call it, was poisonous or not. It may be she died of heartdisease.”

  He simply shrugged his shoulders, and pointed first at the plate ofbreakfast left on the chair, and secondly at the broken-down door.

  “Yes,” I said, answering his look, “Mrs. Belden has been in here thismorning, and Mrs. Belden locked the door when she went out; but thatproves nothing beyond her belief in the girl’s hearty condition.”

  “A belief which that white face on its tumbled pillow did not seem toshake?”

  “Perhaps in her haste she may not have looked at the girl, but have setthe dishes down without more than a casual glance in her direction?”

  “I don’t want to suspect anything wrong, but it is such a coincidence!”

  This was touching me on a sore point, and I stepped back. “Well,” said I, “there is no use in our standing here busying ourselves withconjectures. There is too much to be done. Come!” and I moved hurriedlytowards the door.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked. “Have you forgotten this is butan episode in the one great mystery we are sent here to unravel? If thisgirl has come to her death by some foul play, it is our business to findit out.”

  “That must be left for the coroner. It has now passed out of our hands.”

  “I know; but we can at least take full note of the room and everythingin it before throwing the affair into the hands of strangers. Mr. Grycewill expect that much of us, I am sure.”

  “I have looked at the room. The whole is photographed on my mind. I amonly afraid I can never forget it.”

  “And the body? Have you noticed its position? the lay of the bed-clothesaround it? the lack there is of all signs of struggle or fear? therepose of the countenance? the easy fall of the hands?”

  “Yes, yes; don’t make me look at it any more.”

  “Then the clothes hanging on the wall?”--rapidly pointing out eachobject as he spoke. “Do you see? a calico dress, a shawl,--not theone in which she was believed to have run away, but an old blackone, probably belonging to Mrs. Belden. Then this chest,”--openingit,--“containing a few underclothes marked,--let us see, ah, with thename of the lady of the house, but smaller than any she ever wore;made for Hannah, you observe, and marked with her own name to preventsuspicion. And then these other clothes lying on the floor, all new,all marked in the same way. Then this--Halloo! look here!” he suddenlycried.

  Going over to where he stood I stooped down, when a wash-bowl half fullof burned paper met my eye.

  “I saw her bending over something in this corner, and could not thinkwhat it was. Can it be she is a suicide after all? She has evidentlydestroyed something here which she didn’t wish any one to see.”

  “I do not know,” I said. “I could almost hope so.”

  “Not a scrap, not a morsel left to show what it w
as; how unfortunate!”

  “Mrs. Belden must solve this riddle,” I cried.

  “Mrs. Belden must solve the whole riddle,” he replied; “the secretof the Leavenworth murder hangs upon it.” Then, with a lingeringlook towards the mass of burned paper, “Who knows but what that was aconfession?”

  The conjecture seemed only too probable.

  “Whatever it was,” said I, “it is now ashes, and we have got to acceptthe fact and make the best of it.”

  “Yes,” said he with a deep sigh; “that’s so; but Mr. Gryce will neverforgive me for it, never. He will say I ought to have known it was asuspicious circumstance for her to take a dose of medicine at the verymoment detection stood at her back.”

  “But she did not know that; she did not see you.”

  “We don’t know what she saw, nor what Mrs. Belden saw. Women are amystery; and though I flatter myself that ordinarily I am a match forthe keenest bit of female flesh that ever walked, I must say that inthis case I feel myself thoroughly and shamefully worsted.”

  “Well, well,” I said, “the end has not come yet; who knows what a talkwith Mrs. Belden will bring out? And, by the way, she will be comingback soon, and I must be ready to meet her. Everything depends uponfinding out, if I can, whether she is aware of this tragedy or not. Itis just possible she knows nothing about it.”

  And, hurrying him from the room, I pulled the door to behind me, and ledthe way down-stairs.

  “Now,” said I, “there is one thing you must attend to at once. Atelegram must be sent Mr. Gryce acquainting him with this unlooked-foroccurrence.”

  “All right, sir,” and Q started for the door.

  “Wait one moment,” said I. “I may not have another opportunity tomention it. Mrs. Belden received two letters from the postmasteryesterday; one in a large and one in a small envelope; if you could findout where they were postmarked----”

  Q put his hand in his pocket. “I think I will not have to go far tofind out where one of them came from. Good George, I have lost it!” Andbefore I knew it, he had returned up-stairs.

  That moment I heard the gate click.